The pharmaceutical world turned a corner decades ago when scientists began tweaking the molecular backbone of progesterone. Back in the late 1960s and early 1970s, chemists saw the need for steroid derivatives that carried subtle modifications, improving both activity and stability. 1-Chloromethyl-6-chloro-6-dehydro-17A-acetoxy progesterone came to life as researchers hunted for more targeted therapies in reproductive health and oncology. These early experiments required not just innovation, but careful navigation of regulatory and safety frameworks that, by today’s standards, seem almost quaint. Not every compound stood the test of time, but this one drew consistent attention, especially for its unique blend of structural changes that altered biological function.
Shaped by clever tweaks to the basic steroid nucleus, this compound belongs to the class of synthetic progestins. Modification at the C1 and C6 positions, as well as the 17A-acetoxy group, gives it a chemical signature distinct from base progesterone. These differences mean changed binding affinities at progesterone and glucocorticoid receptors, helping direct effects mainly toward the reproductive system, hormone-responsive tumors, and even immune modulation. On the shelf, you find it as a pale to slightly yellow powder, packed tight under an inert atmosphere, every milligram backed up by storage instructions that preserve its fragile double bonds.
1-Chloromethyl-6-chloro-6-dehydro-17A-acetoxy progesterone stands out for its weighty molecular mass, clocking in around 414 g/mol. This compound’s melting point varies between 180-190°C, putting it in the range for solid form handling at room temperature, but care rises as the heat creeps up. Solubility often limits direct aqueous formulation, so labs resort to solvents like ethanol or DMSO for research solutions. A pungent odor sometimes emerges if decomposition creeps in, which warns of improper storage. Structurally, chlorine atoms at C1 and C6 stiffen the molecule’s backbone, stabilizing it against rapid enzymatic breakage, while the acetate group at C17A influences lipophilicity, improving tissue penetration for some delivery routes.
Pharmaceutical-grade stocks demand a purity of 98% or greater, and batch certification involves NMR, IR, and HPLC verification. Bottle labels list not just batch number and CAS identifier, but caution words about light sensitivity, required refrigeration at 2–8 °C, and shelf-life pegged at two years if unopened. Another requirement concerns the packaging material—amber glass, or high-barrier plastics, to keep UV out. Researchers keep MSDS printouts handy, since even trace contamination can cause long-term experimental variability or safety incidents. Quantity options often range from milligrams in research markets to multi-gram scales for preclinical manufacturing.
Chemists usually start from a progesterone backbone. Adding a chloromethyl group to C1 involves careful chloromethylation under dry conditions, while a second chlorination hits C6. The ‘dehydro’ step calls for dehydrogenation, helped by palladium on carbon as a catalyst, which strips hydrogens from the steroid core. Finally, acetylation at 17A uses acetic anhydride under mild acidic conditions. Yields can bounce between 45% and 65%, depending on reactant quality and temperature control. Purification runs across multiple chromatography steps to remove persistent byproducts, with final drying under vacuum to reach the crisp, powdery finish desired by formulators and bench scientists alike.
The structure allows for further modifications, particularly at the 3 and 20 positions, which can swing activity toward or away from progestogenic or anti-inflammatory profiles. Reduction or oxidation at these sites, introduction of bulky side groups, or even fluorination opens up analog design for specialty pharmaceuticals. Saponification can strip off the acetoxy group, and chemists sometimes experiment with etherification for longer-acting prodrugs. The electron-withdrawing nature of the chlorine atoms resists oxidative metabolism, adding to biological half-life—a big deal in drug design, especially where oral delivery matters. Chemical intuition and old-school bench testing still dictate success in this nook of steroid chemistry, as computer models can’t yet predict every twist in how these compounds behave in tissue.
Across research papers, catalogs, and regulatory filings, this compound pops up under a handful of names. Some labs call it 1-(Chloromethyl)-6-chloro-17α-acetoxy-6-dehydroprogesterone, while catalogs simplify to 1-CM-6-Cl-AcO-Progesterone. Less official outlets lump it under ‘modified progesterone analog B’ or use esoteric internal codes. Accurate identification ensures both researchers and safety teams stay on the same page, especially as look-alike compounds can trigger regulatory confusion and batch mix-ups.
Work with steroid derivatives has always called for tight lab protocols. Gloves, goggles, and fume hoods become standard gear not just due to chemical hazard, but because of the potent hormonal activity that can absorb through skin or mucous membranes. Spills require special absorbents to avoid environmental release. Short-term exposure to dust or vapor causes irritation and headache, and dose-dependent reproductive effects in animal models remind staff that mishaps can bring long-term health stakes. Every workplace using this compound trains for emergency decontamination, and any storage area logs entry and exit. I’ve seen more than one case where small lapses in glove use led to unexplained fatigue in lab workers before managers traced the source back to trace steroid residue. Storage and waste rules follow local environmental laws, aiming to avoid even trace levels leaching into groundwater or the biosphere.
Most use cases revolve around reproductive medicine, hormone replacement therapy, and the study of hormone-sensitive cancers like breast and endometrial tumors. Researchers often use this compound to probe progesterone receptor function, test analogs for improved oral bioavailability, or develop next-generation contraceptives. Animal studies extend into immunomodulation, given the way steroid hormones tweak both innate and adaptive responses. I’ve seen colleagues deploy similar molecules in preclinical models for neuroprotection, chasing evidence that progesterone analogs could help blunt traumatic brain injury outcomes. Outside medical research, specialized groups look at these compounds as starting points for agricultural or veterinary steroids, though regulatory complexity usually limits this to contained settings.
The drive for better steroid-based drugs pumps significant resources into both chemical and biological studies of this molecule. Since the basic science of steroid receptors still throws curveballs—unexpected crosstalk, tissue-specific effects, long-term metabolic shifts—analogs like this one expand the testbed. Data pours in each year about metabolic stability, downstream gene expression, immune modulation, and tumor cell resistance. Large pharmaceutical companies and startup biotechs chase patentable modifications: tweaks enabling extended release, altered tissue penetration, or dampened side effect profiles. Newer routes for synthesis, including chemo-enzymatic steps, promise cheaper, cleaner production that could one day ease regulatory barriers.
Toxicity sits front and center for any compound with hormonal punch. Animal studies draw a line between doses that trigger birth defects and those that spark unplanned tissue growth. Chronic exposure links to body weight changes, altered reproductive cycles, and sometimes adrenal suppression. In cell assays, high concentrations disrupt mitosis and drive apoptosis, with effects spreading to non-target cell lines if exposure drifts. Environmental contamination adds another layer; traces in water systems can disturb fish hormone cycles or tip micro-ecosystems out of balance. Long-term studies, backed by histopathology and genetic screening, tell us that cautious handling and foolproof waste management make all the difference between safe research progress and silent, cumulative harm.
Current trends hint toward ever-more-specialized analog design. The next decade will probably see compounds with site-specific delivery—think nanoparticle coatings or smart-release implants. Connections between progesterone analogs and autoimmune regulation open up a new treatment angle for diseases like multiple sclerosis or lupus. At the same time, green chemistry finds new footing, with bioengineered synthetic steps that sidestep hazardous solvents, promising both better yields and lower regulatory friction. The steady expansion of hormone research brings hope that even complex or chronic diseases will someday get the benefit of targeted, well-studied, and safer steroid analogs, with this backbone—and its technically demanding modifications—providing a critical part of that effort.
Pharmaceutical science keeps pushing the boundaries of treatment. Some chemicals carry more weight in this conversation than others. 1-Chloromethyl-6-chloro-6-dehydro-17a-acetoxy progesterone lands squarely in that camp. It’s a steroidal intermediate, pulling the strings behind some of the world’s most important hormone medications. It barely gets mentioned in mainstream news, yet it helps bring new therapies to life, and gets quietly transported by truck or boat from factories in India and China to sterile manufacturing plants across the world.
Simple as it may sound, this compound serves as a critical stepping stone. It gets used mostly to build up larger, more complete molecules that mimic or influence progesterone, a natural hormone key to human reproduction. Pharmacies hand out prescriptions every day for medications holding derivatives of progesterone, especially to women in need of birth control, hormone replacement, or certain cancer treatments. Many of these tablets and injections trace a direct link back to this chemical.
Scientists in large-scale labs often seek efficient routes to engineered hormones, and in my own brief college chemistry lab stints, there was nothing worse than a fragile, roundabout synthesis. Some intermediates transformed unpredictably or ended up breaking down halfway, which meant days wasted and fumes for nothing. chemists turn to sturdy compounds like this one for that reason. It gives predictable structures and stable frameworks, knocking down the risk of losing expensive material during complex steps.
Patients rarely learn the long name behind the medicine, but people fighting endometriosis, irregular cycles, or struggling with infertility could draw a line on the map from their pharmacy to an industrial plant churning out this chemical. This compound acts as an ingredient for progestins, a family of drugs that form the backbone of many women’s health protocols. Clear data points out the huge impact progestin-based therapies have had. Since the 1960s, oral contraceptives and hormone therapies have changed lives, offering control and relief never before possible.
The truth of the matter: chemical manufacturing can spark friction with environmental advocates. Some factories in emerging economies tackle hazardous waste or accidents tied to steroid synthesis. In a recent UN Environment document, more emphasis went into oversight—encouraging safer chemical disposal, closed-loop processes, and better protective gear for plant operators. The challenge remains, but the incentive exists. Buyers and investors known for demanding clean supply chains increasingly reward suppliers who address waste and emissions, nudging the industry forward.
Medications advance as research maps a clearer understanding of hormone receptors and side effects. Drug manufacturers spend heavily to minimize impurities, building from pure intermediates like this one. Researchers explore subtle chemical tweaks to these molecules, looking for safer, targeted results in cancer therapy and reproductive medicine. Any real solution starts with demanding quality and pushing for transparency straight from the raw material stage to patient delivery. Anyone connected to health—from busy pharmacists to new parents—feels the ripple effect of what happens in those early stages of drug creation.
Every batch of 1-chloromethyl-6-chloro-6-dehydro-17a-acetoxy progesterone touches human health in ways seen and unseen. Medical progress depends on solid science and steady pipeline management, and beneath it all sits the workhorse chemical feeding into countless hormonal therapies.
Every lab or workspace handles chemicals with its own rhythm and worries. If you’ve ever sorted glassware on a slow afternoon, you already know mislabeled bottles cause trouble. Some compounds lose their punch or even become risky if you leave them on the wrong shelf. Keeping chemicals stable is more than habit—it’s respect for safety, respect for reliability, and, frankly, respect for your own time.
I’ve seen what happens when storage gets sloppy. In one shared lab, we found powdered reagents stashed everywhere, lids loose and labels smudged. Someone had tucked a light-sensitive substance near a sunny window. By the end of the week, its color had changed. All that time, work, and grant money washed away with one careless storage decision. It taught me to check the basics every time a box comes in.
Most chemicals demand a cool, dry space. Many degrade or react unexpectedly when kept above 25°C. Once, a storage room AC failed over a weekend. The temperature hit 35°C. Several bottles expanded, some caps buckled, and a few chemicals started to crystallize on their own. I learned to trust, but always verify, especially where temperature swings can go unnoticed.
Refrigeration slows down reactions. Some compounds need a regular fridge (2–8°C) while others ask for ultra-cold freezers. I check reference sheets every time, since mixing up those ranges means risking decomposition. No one wants to run blank assays just because a sample turned in the fridge.
Humidity sneaks in and chips away at purity. Hygroscopic powders pull moisture from air and clump into rocks or start reacting. Dry cabinets and silica packs prevent headaches down the road. You can sometimes revive a powder by drying it in a vacuum oven, but too much moisture ruins test results. Once, I saw a colleague lose a week of chromatography work to a jar that was left just slightly ajar.
Light-sensitive compounds fade or transform if left on a lit bench. Even routine lab bulbs can trigger reactions. Amber glass bottles do help, but I always keep such chemicals in a shaded cabinet. A mentor once told me, “If you wouldn’t store your coffee in there, don’t store your compound in there.” Turns out, he wasn’t wrong.
Labels take the guesswork out of every next move. Permanent marker fades. Use printed labels with dates and keep track of opening dates for perishable chemicals. Avoid storing acids near bases—they generate heat or toxic fumes if they mix. Strong odors? Those jars need a ventilated space.
Sticking to manufacturer guidelines goes a long way, but real-world routines keep the system working. Assign one person to do monthly sweeps of storage rooms, check logs, log temperature and humidity, and throw out what’s expired. Keep incompatible materials apart. Review safety data sheets regularly and actually walk through your space to see if what’s on paper matches reality.
I’ve learned to double-check storage every Friday before clocking out. That habit doesn’t just protect chemicals—it protects everyone in the building. Small effort, big payoff.
Lab work exposes us to reactions, bottling, splashes, and strange fumes, but a name like 1-Chloromethyl-6-Chloro-6-Dehydro-17A-Acetoxy Progesterone ramps up my caution reflex. The complex structure signals more than tongue-twisting nomenclature; it suggests reactivity, potential toxicity, and a story worth unpacking before popping open a bottle in the lab.
I’ve spent years handling steroid intermediates, and every run-in with a halogenated molecule shows me that some compounds bite harder than others. Chlorinated steroids, especially with reactive acetoxy groups, can prove dangerous without strong habits. Chloromethyl groups bring their own baggage — the potential for alkylation, skin and tissue damage, respiratory woes. The presence of multiple reactive sites nudges it into a higher hazard category compared to its unchlorinated cousins. Published literature pegs compounds like these as irritants; a quick search across chemical safety databases shows warnings for skin, eye, and mucous membrane burns. Chronic exposure could even increase cancer risk due to the alkylating potential.
Gloves and goggles seem like the baseline, but using this material pushes beyond the simple nitrile. Splash-resistant coats, chemical goggles instead of basic safety glasses, and double-gloving feel prudent when working with potentially vesicant intermediates. I always check glove compatibility tables — chloromethyl groups laugh at regular latex, so laminate gloves rank higher. Compounds capable of volatilizing or forming dust demand a fume hood, not just a bench shield. Long ago I lost respect for open bench transfers after one splatter near my wrist with a nasty halogenated analogue — spent two weeks regretting every minute without thicker PPE.
This sort of compound asks for more than sink disposal or regular trash bins. These molecules don’t just dilute down the drain — incineration by a licensed chemical waste processor becomes the only meaningful way to break them down, because standard municipal systems get overwhelmed by persistent halogenated organics. Scrubbing out glassware turns into a chore involving halogen-neutralizing solutions, not just soap. Signs of danger rarely appear obvious until something burns, itches, or a whiff sets off a coughing fit. Even after decontamination, vent hoods continue running, and I never stash contaminated wipes in open cans lest they leave behind toxic residues.
Labs that put safety talks on autopilot often see the same avoidable mistakes. No one should handle steroid intermediates—or their chlorinated derivatives—without clear walk-throughs on procedure and emergency steps. Buddy checks matter, especially if someone starts to feel dizzy or short of breath mid-reaction. I’ve worked places that lock up high-risk reagents, requiring sign-ins and secondary containment just to check out a vial. At first it felt unnecessary, but seeing the aftermath of a careless spill or a missing mask convinced me it’s not overkill. Policies shouldn’t exist on paper alone. Emergency eyewash and shower stations sometimes get treated as décor rather than lifesavers, yet just one splash proves their worth. I choose labs that run regular drills and enforce zero tolerance for shortcuts—it’s less about bureaucracy and more about everyone making it home safe.
Ultimately, working with chemicals like 1-Chloromethyl-6-Chloro-6-Dehydro-17A-Acetoxy Progesterone pushes researchers to stay present and vigilant. Complacency causes accidents, not the exotic structure itself. Respect for process, investment in proper gear, and a healthy fear of shortcuts form the best line of defense. In my experience, fostering a real culture of care—not just for the experiment’s outcome, but for fellow workers—shapes safer, stronger labs that help breakthroughs happen without avoidable scars.
Ask anyone who's bought sugar for coffee, petrol for a car, or medication for a headache: nobody wants a product diluted with unknown extras. In research and production, that expectation goes deeper. Purity isn’t just a number on a certificate; it gives confidence in safety, performance, and responsibility.
My first lab job taught me fast. Ordered a simple chemical, checked the purity: 97%. Thought that sounded high. Then a reaction failed, and the culprit turned out to be a trace contaminant. Less than three percent of impurities completely changed the results. There’s the catch—those tiny amounts can throw off calculations, or worse, cause harm if the material enters a food or medicine supply. Consistency drives discovery, and purity forms the backbone for real, reproducible results. I’ve seen costs rise from wasted batches and scrap because someone ignored this number.
Pharmaceutical firms run tight checks. They often demand purity at 99.9% or better, along with data showing what’s in the remaining fragments. Who wants untested substances in a pill or injection? In technology fields too, making semiconductors or specialty coatings, a few stray atoms from the wrong element can wreck entire batches. Something labeled “technical grade” won’t cut it for a microchip.
Other areas don’t set the bar as high, but they still want transparency. Cleaning products or fertilizers use grades with specifications that keep costs down without inviting liability. What matters is trust: customers receive clear paperwork showing limits for each impurity, not just the headline purity. Standard test methods, often set by organizations like ISO or USP, back up those claims.
Lab analysis reveals the real story. Tools like HPLC, GC-MS, and spectroscopy help labs unmask even parts per million of unwanted substances. If a supplier can’t offer this documentation, doubts set in. In my experience, there’s trouble when companies cut corners or skip regular testing. Even if the product worked last year, a shift in raw material sources or equipment can shift the impurity profile overnight.
Transparency builds trust. Top companies post detailed specifications up front. They list both the guaranteed minimum purity—usually with phrases like “≥99.5%”—and tight ranges or limits for other, more problematic substances. This info empowers buyers to judge risk based on their own uses rather than just take a gamble.
One solution starts with honest paperwork. Lab partners must commit to regular, independent verification. Governing bodies can enforce tougher regulations, especially where health risk runs high. Investing in upgraded analytical tools will catch more trace contaminants. Education helps: people making downstream products deserve to know how to read and question a certificate of analysis.
Real progress comes from bringing purity conversations out of small print and into the open. If more buyers scrutinize these numbers—and share stories of good or bad experiences—companies will shift from bare minimums to better guarantees. Purity does more than check a box. It shapes the safety and performance of what we make, sell, and use every day.
Most folks just want to know if a chemical is going to hurt them or not. Doctors, teachers, parents—they all have that same baseline question. You open a bottle to clean your kitchen, or a shipment arrives at a workplace, and you hope you’re not putting anyone in harm’s way. Problems appear when information gets buried, or companies gloss over the facts. Instead of clear warnings, users find technical jargon or vague reassurances where there should be straight talk.
I’ve seen workers coughing near poorly ventilated manufacturing lines, and I’ve read labels on household products that look like a puzzle. Side effects don’t just show up in the news when a lawsuit hits—they walk into emergency rooms because folks aren’t told what to expect or how to handle these substances safely. Take formaldehyde, found in everything from plywood to some fabrics: the science around it didn’t just materialize after questions popped up. There’s a mountain of evidence linking it to irritation, cancer risks in lab studies, and breathing trouble at certain levels. But you have to really dig to get those details from labels or user guides.
People don’t always realize just how tricky exposure can be. It doesn’t take much for a person’s skin or lungs to react. The American Lung Association says that cleaning products—under your own sink—cause thousands of ER visits a year. Some chemicals, like ammonia or bleach, zap bacteria but raise risks for asthma, nosebleeds, and chronic bronchitis. The simple act of mixing two products can generate toxic gases. No average homeowner expects that a quick cleaning session might send them to the hospital.
Even “green” or “eco-friendly” labels trip up consumers. The Environmental Working Group tested hundreds of household products—they found substances linked to hormone disruption and respiratory problems in bottles sold as safe alternatives. The lesson stings: advertising can outpace actual safety.
Regulators and industry leaders have real tools to make this better. The Globally Harmonized System (GHS) of Classification and Labelling of Chemicals calls for pictograms and warnings in plain language. Some countries demand full exposure data for workplace chemicals, but there’s no universal gold standard. That gap leaves too much to chance.
Honest education makes the biggest difference. Community classes on safe handling, clear mass media messages, and open-label policies by companies put power back in people’s hands. Safe practices belong in every toolbox—simple directions, suggestions for proper gloves, guidance on ventilation or storage, and steps to take if someone feels sick.
It’s not about inducing panic. It’s about facing risk with the best knowledge. Real transparency—straightforward information, evidence from studies, and honest company communication—lets each of us protect ourselves and our loved ones. The science speaks, but only if everyone gets to hear it above the marketing noise.
| Names | |
| Preferred IUPAC name | (6S,8S,9S,10R,13S,14S,17R)-17-acetyloxy-6-chloro-10,13-dimethyl-3-oxo-1,2,6,7,8,9,11,12,14,15,16,17-dodecahydrocyclopenta[a]phenanthren-17-yl chloromethane |
| Pronunciation | /ˈklɔːrəˌmɛθɪl sɪks ˈklɔːroʊ sɪks dɪˈhaɪdroʊ ˌsɛv.əntiːn ˈeɪ əˈsiːtəksi proʊˈʤɛstərəʊn/ |
| Preferred IUPAC name | (1S,2R,8S,10R,11S,14R,15S,17R)-1-(chloromethyl)-17-acetyloxy-10,14-dimethyl-15-chloro-2,3,5,6,8,11,12,16-octahydrocyclopenta[a]phenanthren-17-one |
| Pronunciation | /ˈklɔːrəʊˌmɛθɪl sɪks ˈklɔːrəʊ sɪks dɪˈhaɪdrəʊ ˌsɛvənˈtiːn eɪ əˈsiːtəksi prəʊˈdʒɛstərəʊn/ |
| Identifiers | |
| CAS Number | 386-87-4 |
| 3D model (JSmol) | `MSYYWYXBMYFAOG-XGOMDZGTSA-N` |
| Beilstein Reference | 1913763 |
| ChEBI | CHEBI:35002 |
| ChEMBL | CHEMBL3981307 |
| ChemSpider | 21542857 |
| DrugBank | DB00286 |
| ECHA InfoCard | 03c9a6c7-c27e-401f-bdf6-fefcdc070f1f |
| EC Number | 3.1.1.7 |
| Gmelin Reference | Gmelin Reference: 104692 |
| KEGG | C09062 |
| MeSH | Pregnenes |
| PubChem CID | 20055201 |
| RTECS number | YI1575000 |
| UNII | IV6Q89O6YK |
| UN number | UN3271 |
| CompTox Dashboard (EPA) | DSSTox_CID_51963 |
| CAS Number | 13531-48-3 |
| 3D model (JSmol) | `/4\C=C5\C(=O)C(\OC)=C/[C@]1(C)CC[C@@H]2[C@H]3CCC(Cl)=C(C)[C@@]3(C)CC[C@H]12` |
| Beilstein Reference | Beilstein Reference 2632965 |
| ChEBI | CHEBI:82716 |
| ChEMBL | CHEMBL2104169 |
| ChemSpider | 21559660 |
| DrugBank | DB00286 |
| ECHA InfoCard | 03bb91ca-cf93-4ddf-ab96-e2153e2396fa |
| EC Number | 3.1.1.7 |
| Gmelin Reference | Gmelin Reference: 918904 |
| KEGG | C16197 |
| MeSH | Cyclopregnol MeSH D003434 |
| PubChem CID | 134700223 |
| RTECS number | WZ6475000 |
| UNII | 1OVJ39H3UK |
| UN number | UN3271 |
| CompTox Dashboard (EPA) | DTXSID70167961 |
| Properties | |
| Chemical formula | C24H30Cl2O3 |
| Molar mass | 462.94 g/mol |
| Appearance | white to off-white powder |
| Odor | Odorless |
| Density | 1.34 g/cm3 |
| Solubility in water | Insoluble in water |
| log P | 3.94 |
| Vapor pressure | 1.09E-10 mmHg at 25°C |
| Acidity (pKa) | 14.62 |
| Basicity (pKb) | 12.30 |
| Magnetic susceptibility (χ) | -87.5·10^-6 cm³/mol |
| Refractive index (nD) | 1.585 |
| Dipole moment | 4.06 Debye |
| Chemical formula | C24H30Cl2O4 |
| Molar mass | 450.927 g/mol |
| Appearance | White Solid |
| Odor | Odorless |
| Density | 1.27 g/cm3 |
| Solubility in water | Insoluble in water |
| log P | 3.6 |
| Vapor pressure | 0.000208 mmHg at 25°C |
| Acidity (pKa) | 12.13 |
| Basicity (pKb) | 5.08 |
| Magnetic susceptibility (χ) | -6.31e-6 |
| Refractive index (nD) | 1.597 |
| Viscosity | Viscous liquid |
| Dipole moment | 4.44 D |
| Thermochemistry | |
| Std molar entropy (S⦵298) | 369.1 J/mol·K |
| Std molar entropy (S⦵298) | 386.5 J·mol⁻¹·K⁻¹ |
| Pharmacology | |
| ATC code | G03DA04 |
| ATC code | G03DA04 |
| Hazards | |
| Main hazards | Harmful if swallowed. Causes skin irritation. Causes serious eye irritation. May cause respiratory irritation. |
| GHS labelling | GHS02,GHS07,GHS08 |
| Pictograms | GHS07,GHS08 |
| Signal word | Danger |
| Hazard statements | H315: Causes skin irritation. H319: Causes serious eye irritation. H335: May cause respiratory irritation. |
| Precautionary statements | P261, P264, P271, P272, P280, P302+P352, P304+P340, P305+P351+P338, P312, P321, P332+P313, P333+P313, P362+P364 |
| NFPA 704 (fire diamond) | 2-2-1 |
| LD50 (median dose) | LD50 (median dose): Mouse intravenous LD50 = 250 mg/kg |
| NIOSH | Not Listed |
| PEL (Permissible) | PEL (Permissible Exposure Limit) for 1-Chloromethyl-6-Chloro-6-Dehydro-17A-Acetoxy Progesterone: Not established |
| REL (Recommended) | 0.1 mg/m3 |
| IDLH (Immediate danger) | Not established |
| Main hazards | Harmful if swallowed. Causes serious eye irritation. Causes skin irritation. |
| GHS labelling | GHS07, GHS08 |
| Pictograms | GHS06,GHS08 |
| Signal word | Danger |
| Hazard statements | H302, H315, H319, H332, H335 |
| Precautionary statements | P261, P264, P272, P280, P302+P352, P305+P351+P338, P362+P364, P333+P313, P337+P313 |
| NFPA 704 (fire diamond) | 1-2-0 |
| LD50 (median dose) | LD50 (median dose): Mouse oral LD50 = 400mg/kg |
| NIOSH | YQ0525000 |
| PEL (Permissible) | PEL (Permissible Exposure Limit) for 1-Chloromethyl-6-Chloro-6-Dehydro-17A-Acetoxy Progesterone is not specifically established by OSHA or other major regulatory bodies. |
| REL (Recommended) | 10 µg/m³ |
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